Frivolous Universe

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Anna

Turtle Lesson #1: If there is one lesson I remember from the many afternoon fables of grade school story hour, it is the infamous mantra from the Tortoise and the Hare. I’ve never been particularly gifted in the art of patience, but as Aesop so simply and elegantly put it, “Slow and steady wins the race.” As one who frequently shakes fists of fury at sluggish stoplights, I am resolving to remind myself of this unpretentious and straightforward wisdom.

Turtle Lesson #2: For those smarty-pants out there who are reading this and saying to themselves, “hey…..Aesop wrote about a tortoise, not a turtle…” I give you a few lines to ponder from Lewis Carroll’s tale of the Mock Turtle:

“When we were little…we went to school in the sea. The master was an old turtle – we used to call him Tortoise—“

“Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?” Alice asked.

“We called him Tortoise because he taught us,” said the Mock Turtle.

To sum up: sometimes what we say is exactly what we mean, even if at first glance it isn’t exactly what it seems. As cynicism tends to be my go-to mode of communication, I resolve to keep this bit of mock turtle whit in mind this year.

Turtle Lesson #3: The Mi’kmaq tribe of the New England-Quebec area have a legend about the turtle that goes something like this:

Turtle was a great storyteller, and every summer he would entertain his animal friends with many tales. But when fall came and his friends began to migrate or hibernate, Turtle was left alone. Winter came, and Turtle nearly froze to death. In the spring, when his friends returned, he asked them why they had all abandoned him. They told him he had been too busy entertaining others to learn how to fend for himself. So, that summer, Turtle spent more time thinking and less time talking. This introspection led him to understand how to hibernate. When winter came again, Turtle crawled into the mud to rest and think of many new stories to tell his friends the following summer.

Another elegantly simple lesson – be good to yourself so that you may be in the positive spirit to be good to others.

About the outfit: This playful, shell-pink rayon and lace blouse is perfect for layering – no tags, found at a thrift store for $10. The velvet skirt is a vintage ‘70’s piece made by The Villager – another $10 thrift store find. These Frye boots are my most recent prized possession – got them from a friend at a clothing exchange!

 About the jewelry: The earrings, made by Hazel Cox, are hand-hammered bronze, silver chain, and black pearls. The ring, by Red Stag Jewelry, is silver, petrified herringbone wood, black pearl, and white sapphire.

Many thanks to Bethany Walter for the photos, the Visual Arts Collective for throwing such a fantastic New Year’s Eve party, to Bob Stimpart for making such gregarious little clay creatures.

Thanks for reading, and remember what the humble turtle teaches us, folks – be patient, don’t be so quick to assume you know all the answers, and take good care of yourself.

 

 

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Agarwood is a scent that belongs to the deep dark of winter. It is a rare and resinous oil that forms in the heartwood of the aquilaria tree – a large evergreen found in southeast Asia. Agarwood – often called the “wood of the Gods” – only forms when the tree is infected with a specific type of mold, which turns the pale, fibrous heartwood into a chamber of dense and aromatic black resin.

The rarity of this essential oil makes it one of the most sought after ingredients in designer fragrances. Luckily, my dear friend Caitlyn Davies of Intentions Perfumery is a master perfumer and has created some of the most commanding, intoxicating blends from this precious essence.

I feel so incredibly drawn to this rich, heady oil when the bitterest months are upon us – I find comfort in its earthy complexity. It is a smell that conjures up visions of thick, moss-covered soil and the barren bushes of December…with their lovely, twisting shapes and ochre-hued branches.

How befitting of a winter aroma, to be born from an infectious mold that settles into the heart of its host until the host begrudgingly accepts its presence and finds a way to create something beautiful from the unfortunate pestilence…..not unlike the aquilaria tree, I seek ways to strike the mold from my heart that festers there during the fleeting daylight hours and frigid, brittle air of the long, dark, Idaho winter.

About the outfit: Admittedly, the majority of the items I am wearing are fairly low quality – made of synthetic materials and from the likes of Express and J Crew. But, when paired with such finery as this incredible wool jacket – a vintage ’70’s era piece by Giorgio Armani (found at a thrift store for a mere $10) and some stunning pieces of jewelry from my great-grandmother, Edith Lawrence, this outfit becomes classy and elegant.

The beaded necklace is a strand of opals my great-grandmother picked up in Cairo in 1902. They are incredibly unique, and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The other is a 1920’s era jet necklace, also owned by Edith.

The incredible fire of these opals is difficult to capture in a photograph, but I love how well this photo shows the beautiful detailing of this Armani jacket. Here’s to intoxicating aromas, fine wool, and fiery opals – they help stoke the embers of the heart during the coldest months.

Photo credits this week go to the lovely Bethany Walter, and yours truly for the Photoshop magic. 

 

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Winter in McCall is cold and dry this year. What should be a tiny mountain town blanketed in crisp, white snow drifts and bustling with ski-loving tourists is instead a bitter cold, ice encrusted, and nearly vacant little corner of Idaho. Everywhere I went during my last trip home, shop owners were wringing their hands and praying for snow. Since the saw mill closed in ’77, McCall’s economy shifted greatly – from that of a working man’s town to some semblance of a tourist town.

Strange and frustrating though the weather is, it affords the locals some incredible – and free – entertainment. Little Lake froze hard and fast this year, and the lack of snow combined with the extreme cold made it possible to walk on ice unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Like tiny galaxies suspended in the deep black of space, air bubbles of all shapes and sizes peered up at me from the vast expanse of the frozen lake. Trapped between layers of ice along their upward journey, the pockets of air shimmered like mercury orbs in the brittle sunlight.

The day my mother and I ventured out upon the creaking, booming ice of the winter prairie, there were scores of McCall locals scattered across the lake, quietly enjoying the remarkable and ephemeral gift nature made for us.

Simple elegance – air and ice.

Me, taking pictures of the ice formation shown in the above photograph. The rest of these lovely images were taken by my mom. We had a beautiful day together…..

Shawl: poly-wool blend – no tags (thrift store)
Sweater vest: wool – J Crew (new)
Blouse: silk – no tags (thrift store)
Skirt: wool – Pendleton (thrift store)
Boots: leather/shearling wool – Blondo (thrift store)
Belt: leather/brass/abalone – very special gift from my mother.
She bought it in ’72, and I may have recently begged her to give it to me…..
Jewelry: If you’ve read my other posts, you know these pieces by now. If not, do so!

 

 

 

 

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